


My Turn

by captainskellington



Series: Bad Pickup Lines [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 17:12:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2200137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainskellington/pseuds/captainskellington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras finds room for one last bad pickup line in their relationship.</p><p>(The inevitable, horribly fluffy sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1163199">9 Times</a>; I'd suggest you read that first.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Turn

“Five years ago today,” is how Grantaire greets Enjolras, throwing himself down on the sofa and his boyfriend’s lap, oh so coincidentally. He nuzzles into Enjolras’ thigh then rolls over to face him with a grin.

“Happy Valentine’s day to you too, dork,” Enjolras says affectionately, bending down to give him a soft kiss. Grantaire hums happily and reaches up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Enjolras’ ear.

“Don’t ‘dork’ me, kid,” Grantaire grins. “Work today?”

“Nope,” Enjolras smiles when Grantaire’s face brightens exponentially. “Yourself?”

Grantaire shakes his head enthusiastically. “Feuilly’s taking over for today, said making disgustingly cute couples happy gives him joy… Or something.”

Enjolras nods thoughtfully. Feuilly’s aroace, but he absolutely adores Valentine’s Day, loves spreading the love. It makes sense that he would want to run the bakery on the day he gets to make so many people happy.

He was the one who first instigated the whole Les Amis Valentine’s Celebration™ that’s taking place later that night. It had started five years ago as a “thank fuck Enjolras and Grantaire finally got their shit together” party and just kind of expanded from there.

Now there’s a cheesy gift exchange and everything, even though Grantaire personally doesn’t think “Secret Cherub” has quite the same ring to it.

“Who’s hosting tonight?” Enjolras asks. Grantaire frowns for a second before he catches Enjolras’ train of thought.

“Oh, right. ‘Chetta and the guys, I think,” he absentmindedly plays with the hem of Enjolras’ t-shirt. “What do you want to do until then?”

“...Movie day?”

“Movie day it is.”

“Get off me, then. I’ll boot up the player.”

“But you picked last time!” Grantaire pouts, sitting up and vacating Enjolras’ lap anyway.

“Yes, but we’re _not_ watching _Love, Actually_ again or I’ll genuinely start to believe you love Hugh Grant more than you love me,” Enjolras watches Grantaire shrug as if to say ‘fair enough’, and then continues. “Also, you have a nest to build.”

“Fuck yeah, I do,” Grantaire is off the sofa and heading off to sack their stock of blankets and pillows in a heartbeat. Enjolras chuckles and goes back to wrestling Grantaire’s PS4 into submission, firing up Netflix and selecting a movie.

“You’re kidding me,” Grantaire says from behind a mountain of bedding. He dumps it on the sofa and looks incredulously at Enjolras. “...You’re not kidding, are you.”

Enjolras just points at the mound of blankets and Grantaire obediently climbs on, snuggling down then opening his arms for Enjolras to join him. Which he does.

“I am the one true princess of Genovia,” Enjolras deadpans as Mia Thermopolis’ narrative fills the room.

“I thought you hated the very _concept_ of monarchy,” Grantaire teases.

“Shhh,” Enjolras puts his hand over Grantaire’s face without looking. Grantaire licks the palm of his hand and Enjolras shoots him a withering look.

They’re at the beach scene when Grantaire speaks up.

“You know, if you’d said no that last time with the cookies…”

Enjolras turns his head to look up at him, frowning worriedly. Grantaire pecks him on the forehead, smoothing out the lines that appear. “I don’t know. I probably would have given up then.”

Enjolras’ mouth goes dry. “I nearly said yes every single time, Grantaire. If you’d given up, I would have come to you.”

Grantaire smiles, looking nervous but relieved, as though he’s been thinking about it for a while. “I know, forget I said anything.” He turns back to the screen. “Does Mia remind you of someone?”

Enjolras nods, but he’s not paying attention. His brain is turning madly, imagining the last five years of his life without Grantaire by his side. At least, it’s trying to imagine it, but Enjolras honest to god cannot get the idea to compute. Neither can he imagine ever being without him again.

Something clicks. His heart swoops and he isn't concentrating on the movie any more.

Enjolras begins to plan.

 

* * *

 

“Are they working you too hard at the school?” Grantaire asks from the doorway. Enjolras jumps, not having heard him come in. He surreptitiously kicks something under the bed without Grantaire noticing.

He blinks, confused. “What?”

Grantaire shrugs and comes to sit beside him on the bed, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his cheek on his shoulder. Enjolras closes his eyes and leans into him, relaxing. “I don’t know, you just seem a little… Stressed. Out of it.”

Enjolras opens his eyes and gives him a little half-hearted smile. “Don’t worry about it, I’m just working something out.” He kisses Grantaire three times, gentle presses first to his forehead, then the end of his nose, then finally on his mouth.

Grantaire leans forward to kiss him back, then rests their foreheads together. “Well, I’m here if you need help working anything out. You know that, right?”

Grantaire’s eyes are disarmingly green from this close and his eyelashes are enviably long and dark. Enjolras’ heart seems to skip a beat as he’s reminded of just how beautiful his boyfriend is.

“Of course,” is all he says.

 

* * *

 

Grantaire’s still worried, though. Enjolras is jumpy and a little bit evasive and he gets the feeling he isn’t getting the truth out of him on more than one occasion. He doesn’t know what’s wrong, but he just wishes that Enjolras would tell him.

It occurs to him at one point, though, that not once has he ever considered that it was something wrong with the relationship. The realisation fills him with an overwhelming warmth, because it may have taken five years but somewhere along the line Grantaire has finally accepted that Enjolras is in love with him, that what they have isn’t going anywhere.

He wanders through to the kitchen and wraps his arms around Enjolras, grinning like an idiot.

Enjolras pauses in typing on his laptop to lean back against him and smile, puzzled. “What was that for?” he asks, taking one of Grantaire’s hands, the left one, and kissing it.

“I love you,” Grantaire says dopily. “Sorry, continue with what you were doing.”

“I love you too,” Enjolras smiles.

He’s not quite as worried after that.

 

* * *

 

**Am I OK to walk you back tonight? - E xxx**

Grantaire blinks down at his phone in confusion.

**why wouldnt it be? - R ♥**

The reply is almost instant.

**No reason :o) See you then - E xxx**

_Weirdo,_ Grantaire thinks, going back to work and shrugging it off with a smile.

 

* * *

 

He’s serving what will likely be his last customer of the day when he hears the back door opening and shutting. “Five minutes, Enj!” he calls back, then returns to the till.

By the time he’s seen off the customer with her obscenely large order of rainbow cupcakes (“I’m having a party, I swear.” “Man, I’m not gonna judge. I once ate at least that amount of cookie batter just to see if I could.”) and shut everything up for the night, he’s more than ready to go home.

He shoves a box of leftover baking into his backpack and heads through into the back room, locking the door behind him on autopilot before he realises the room is completely engulfed in darkness.

He can just make out a silhouette by the light switches, so he addresses it. “Enjolras? What are you…”

The lights come on. Enjolras is grinning nervously, two spots of colour high on his cheeks, one hand on the light switch and the other hidden behind his back. “Hi.”

Grantaire steps closer and smiles hesitantly. “Hi?”

Enjolras takes a deep breath. “Right, okay, so, like, last time, it was you who put in all the effort, and you were the one who went through all the stress and that wasn’t fair on you so this time I figured it was my turn and—”

“Enjolras,” Grantaire interrupts, alarmed, eyes widening. “Breathe, sweetheart.”

Enjolras giggles nervously, clears his throat. “Oh god. Right. Right.”

He steps forward until he’s just a couple of feet away from Grantaire. Grantaire’s fingers twitch. He wants him closer, but instead he waits and raises an expectant eyebrow.

Enjolras brings his arm around to the front to reveal a curiously arranged bouquet of flowers. Red and white roses and… _Wait. Are those…?_ Grantaire takes the bouquet and stares at it for a second. _Yeah. Violets._ He raises his eyes and is about to ask him when he realises Enjolras isn’t finished.

He’s dipped his hand deep into his jacket pocket and is closing his fingers around something. Grantaire’s heart begins to pound in his ears.

Enjolras takes another deep breath and points at the bouquet.

“Some roses are red, no violets are blue—"

Grantaire laughs breathlessly, fleetingly remembering his very first attempt at asking Enjolras out. The other man raises his free hand and Grantaire bites his lip.

He begins again.

“Some roses are red. No violets are blue.  
My dream husband in a single word, is: you.”

In one fluid movement he’s down on one knee with a little black box open in his hand.

Grantaire forgets how to breathe.

“Marry me, Grantaire?” Enjolras’ expression of hope is breathtaking, so maybe that’s why.

Grantaire works his mouth, but can’t speak for a moment.

He carefully places the bouquet on a nearby counter and drops to his knees in front of Enjolras.

Then he breaks into a grin and holds out his left hand.

Enjolras’ breath hitches and he slips the ring onto his fourth finger. It’s a slim metal band that fits perfectly, an unfamiliar cool weight where it rests.

Grantaire grabs Enjolras by the shirt and yanks him close for a bruising kiss. Enjolras drops the box to thread one hand through the dark curls at the back of his head and place the other on his jaw, thumb sweeping across his cheekbone. Grantaire persists, kissing Enjolras deep and thorough until his _fiance_ tips over and he’s sprawled across him on the cold tile floor and he’s straddling his hips and Enjolras is groaning low into his mouth and—

“No,” Grantaire tears away and sits up breathlessly, Enjolras making a disappointed noise. “I’m not fucking you on the kitchen floor, that’s just unhygienic.”

Enjolras props himself up on his elbows and grins brilliantly, looking at Grantaire with an awestruck expression. “Not even for celebratory successful proposal sex?”

 _“No,”_ Grantaire laughs, thumping him lightly on the shoulder. “Oh, and that reminds me: did you really _propose_ to me with a fucking _pickup line?_ ”

“You started it!” Enjolras says, raising his hands defensively. “It was my turn!”

“Your tu— you’re _ridiculous,”_ Grantaire shakes his head and after a moment of thought, bends down and starts mercilessly tickling Enjolras’ ribs. Enjolras squeals and begins wriggling around helplessly underneath him.

“I’m — AH — I’m sorry!” he giggles hysterically. “I won’t do it again!”

“Damn straight you won’t,” Grantaire relents, letting him catch his breath. “I’m your fiance now, there’s no getting rid of me.”

“I should hope not,” Enjolras replies, entirely serious. “That’s kind of the point.”

Grantaire stifles a giggle and gets to his feet, pulling Enjolras up with him. He picks up the bouquet with his free hand and looks over it appreciatively. “I must admit, that was kind of inspired.”

“Not ridiculous, then?” Enjolras squeezes his hand. Grantaire snorts.

“No, it was totally ridiculous. But you suit ridiculous. It becomes you.”

“Thanks. I think.”

Grantaire lets go of his hand to open the door, then lock it once they’re outside. He turns to face Enjolras with a grin.

“What would you say if I told you, as an act of revenge, I was so very tempted to reply ‘try again’?”

“Literally, _‘fuck off’_ ,” Enjolras takes his hand again, pulling him along the road.

“You love me,” Grantaire bumps his shoulder affectionately.

“We’ve established that, yes. Also: we’re engaged,” Enjolras grins wide.

“Holy _fuck,”_ Grantaire hugs the bouquet to his chest.

“Holy fuck is right. The question is, how do we break this to everyone?”

Grantaire thinks about it for a second then smiles.

“Cookies.”

Enjolras laughs.

“Cookies it is.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, I thought of one last pickup line and had to put it to use.  
> I am [cityelf](http://cityelf.tumblr.com) and you've probably not seen the last of this series, I just can't seem to leave it alone.


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